Flooded in Silk: A Leaking Encounter

The dressing gown, once pristine, is now a transparent barrier, clinging to his body like a second skin. His cock, a throbbing, veined monster, is clearly visible, pulsating with need. He's been edging for what feels like hours, the anticipation building, his balls aching. And then, with a low moan, he lets go. His piss flows, soaking the gown, turning it a darker shade of blue, the fabric heavy with his hot, sticky juices. He shudders, his body wracked with pleasure, as he empties himself completely.

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